Ducky's Knitting
by ShakNali
Summary: A set of vignettes where Ducky's secret habit brings surprises to the team. Plot bunny supplied by curuchamion at LJ. Alas, the characters do not belong to me and I make no profit from them.
1. Chapter 1 Jimmy Palmer

**Jimmy Palmer**

"Ah Mr. Palmer. Would you come over here, please?" Jimmy, who had been carefully cataloging the contents of the latest victim's stomach, jumped at Ducky's voice. Things had been moving along very quietly in the morgue, and he frantically reviewed his work so far today to see if he'd missed something.

"Yes, Doctor?" he asked nervously, walking over to the autopsy table. Usually Ducky was full of stories but lately he'd seemed a little preoccupied. Jimmy had hinted a little but received no confidences from his superior.

"As you can see, our new guest died without his boots on," the coroner said, gesturing to the dead man's bare feet. "I'd like to get an idea of his shoe size, and I think your feet are about the same size. Would you mind lending me one of your shoes?"

Jimmy stared at him in surprise. In all the time he'd been there, Dr. Mallard had never made such a request.

"Mr. Palmer?" Ducky held out a hand. "I promise not to put it on the gentleman. I simply want to hold it up for comparison."

Jimmy hurriedly untied his left shoe and gave it to the doctor, who held it up, sole to sole, to the foot in question. He looked at the size marker in the shoe, held it against the foot again, and then returned it to his assistant.

"Yes, I thought you were about the same size. Thank you, Mr. Palmer. That will be all."

He walked lopsidedly back to his chair and sat down to put his shoe back on.

A pair of beautifully knitted socks appeared mysteriously at his desk a month later, wrapped in layers of white tissue paper and topped with a blue bow. He turned them over curiously, appreciating the soft, warm yarn and smiling at the bright red, blue, green and orange stripes. Of all the people he questioned about the anonymous gift, it never occurred to him to suspect his boss. And although he never did discover who'd given them, he said a silent 'thank you' every time he donned them and put his feet up for a night of TV.


	2. Chapter 2 Anthony DiNozzo

**Tony DiNozzo**

"I'm telling ya, it would really liven up your books. You should bone up, take a few lessons from him." Tony plopped down on his seat and swiveled around to face McGee.

Tim looked disgusted. "Tony, I am not going to rewrite my books to add a lot of unnecessary beautiful women in bikinis."

Ducky, who had stepped out of the elevator just in time to hear the end of the sentence, raised an eyebrow and interjected, "Mr. McGee, there is no such thing as an _unnecessary_ beautiful woman in a bikini."

Tony looked triumphant; McGee looked betrayed. Ducky added, "Which beautiful women are we discussing, anyway?"

Before the younger agent could say a word, DiNozzo jumped in. "I've just been telling McGee that he needs to pump up the action in his books. Add a little more sex appeal. He needs to watch a few seasons of "Magnum, P.I." and get some ideas."

"Magnum, P.I.?" Dr. Mallard asked, sounding puzzled.

"Oh, now don't tell me you don't know Thomas Magnum!" Tony was indignant. "You know…" he hummed a few bars of the show's theme music. "Hawaii, red Ferrari, lots of beautiful women, Higgins and his Dobermans…" He looked expectantly at their coroner.

"I have seen this show," Ziva chimed in, slanting a look at Tony. "In this case, doctor, I'm afraid Tim is correct. Most of the beautiful women in bikinis are quite unnecessary."

"Ah, yes," Ducky nodded. "Now I remember. The tall man with the large moustache and the odd laugh."

The others laughed at the look on Tony's face at this description. He straightened his tie and said with quiet conviction, "Thomas Magnum was a great detective."

"Well, since he's not here," said Gibbs, appearing out of nowhere (as usual), "You'll have to do instead. C'mon, there's a body in full dress uniform on the roof of the Senate building and we need to be there an hour ago." Tony, Tim and Ziva jumped, grabbed their gear and a moment later the bullpen was empty except for Ducky.

Two months later, a red cardboard box appeared on Tony's desk one morning. His name was written in block letters on the lid and a bright white ribbon was tied in a bow around it. After taking all proper security precautions, he gingerly opened the lid, ready to jump back if necessary. Ziva and McGee watched anxiously from nearby. Suddenly he cried, "All right!", dumped the lid the rest of the way and snatched something out of the box. His face wreathed in smiles, he proudly displayed the cleverly knitted and stuffed figure of a tall man with a large moustache, seemingly dressed in shorts and a loud Hawaiian shirt. Although Tony could never get anyone to admit having been the donor, 'Magnum' thereafter occupied a place of pride on his desk.


	3. Chapter 3 Abby Sciuto

**Abby Sciuto**

"You'll never guess what I did last night," Abby exclaimed to Ziva as they brought boxes of evidence into the lab.

"Then I won't even try," Ziva replied, straight-faced. After all this time, Abby was still never sure when Ziva was kidding or not. The Israeli agent's poker-face was second only to Gibbs'.

"Aw, c'mon," she wheedled. "At least take a couple of guesses."

Ziva sighed and let a little grin escape. "Very well. You were curled up with Tim's latest book."

"Nope."

"You were curled up with Tim."

"Ziva!" Abby smacked her arm lightly. "No, but you're getting closer. I did spend the evening with someone from here."

Agent David looked shocked. "You didn't go on a date with _Tony_," she said disbelievingly.

"Nope." Abby looked smug, but Ziva had guessed enough and glared at her. "Oh, alright. It was Ducky!" She had the satisfaction of seeing her friend temporarily speechless. "I was talking about my last time bowling with the Sisters and he said he hadn't been for years. So we went bowling last night."

"How did he do?"

"Pretty well, actually. At least, for someone who hasn't bowled in a really long time," Abby added honestly. "It was a fun evening, although even at the bowling alley he was still being a coroner."

"Don't tell me someone died while you were there!"

"No." Abby shook her head, black pigtails flying. "But he was comparing the holes in my bowling ball to my two hands to see if the finger spread was the same. He wanted to see if you could tell if a person was left or right handed by the way the holes were drilled."

Ziva looked intrigued. "Can you tell?"

Abby's answer was cut short by Ziva's phone with a summons from Gibbs. With a brief wave, she headed upstairs, and Abby turned back to unpacking the latest batch of evidence.

Several weeks later Abby entered her lab to find a rectangular wooden box on her table. Made of mahogany, it was beautifully finished, with a small brass hasp for an opener. A single black rose lay on top of it. In spite of her curiosity, Abby donned her gloves and protective glasses before carefully opening it. Nestled inside on a bed of rose-colored satin was a length of black which, when she held it up, became a pair of delicately fashioned, elbow length, fingerless lace gloves. Gibbs came in just as she eagerly shed her lab gloves and put them on.

"New work gloves, Abs?" he asked, with the quirk that passed as a grin.

"Oh Gibbs, they beautiful!" She held up both arms to admire the craftsmanship. "Look at how fine the knitting is! And they fit perfectly! Where did you ever find them?"

Gibbs shook his head. "Not from me, Abby."

Abby spent the next week trying every test and questioning everyone relentlessly, but she never did determine the identity of the donor. Her frustration at the unsolved mystery did not prevent her admiration for the person who could not only knit so beautifully but also stump her, however, and she delighted in wearing the gloves whenever she had the chance.


	4. Chapter 4 Ziva David

**Ziva David**

It was a Friday evening when the call went out for the team. McGee arrived first (after Gibbs, of course), dressed in his scout leader uniform. Apparently, his fireside ceremony had been rudely interrupted by the cell phone's summons. Ducky came next, casually attired for a night at home with a good book and a snifter of brandy. Then Tony rushed in, explaining that he'd had to see his date home before coming.

They were about to leave when Ziva finally arrived. Her appearance halted everyone in his tracks - even Gibbs paused in mid-step for a second. Her long dark hair was piled in elegant curls on top of her head, making her neck look even more slender than usual. The midnight blue gown she wore shimmered as she walked, clinging intriguingly to her curves. She stopped at the looks on their faces and then raised her chin defensively as she hurried to her desk. It took her but a moment to change from her delicate high heels to the sneakers she always kept available.

"Hot date?" Tony asked, only half teasing, as the car tore through the streets. McGee, sitting in front next to Gibbs, strained to hear the answer without turning his head.

"We were at the opera. I did not expect to be called to work tonight." No echo of disappointment or upset in her matter-of-fact reply, but looking at her, Tony had to imagine that at least her date had not been pleased with the interruption.

Given her state of dress, Ziva took over photography duty, while Tony and McGee had the fun task of dragging two seamen's bodies the rest of the way out of the lake and searching the area for evidence. Dusk gave way to darkness, and in the gleam of the headlights they were using for light, Ducky could see Ziva shiver slightly now and then in the cooling night air. Her dress was stunning, but the halter top and nearly-not-there back offered no protection against a chill. He stood up from where he'd been prepping one body for transport, took off his jacket and draped it around her shoulders. Ziva, photographing a footprint, looked up in surprise and gave him a quick smile.

"I'm afraid I left my shawl at the theater," she said, gratefully pulling the coat closer.

The incident had been completely forgotten - one among many cases - when a long florist's box appeared on Ziva's desk. No-one had seen it delivered and there was no florist's card on the outside. It was all Tim could do to prevent Tony from opening it before Ziva arrived. When she came in, he hovered impatiently while she carefully untied the ribbon, lifted the lid and pulled aside the white tissue paper. Instead of roses, however, she picked up a delicately knitted shawl. The lacy pattern formed lovely scallops along the edge, the point reaching down to her waist in the back, but it was the whisper-soft yarn the caught the eye. Shading from deep purple to brilliant orange, the colors almost glowed and Ziva's first thought was of how magnificently it would compliment her blue gown at the embassy party she was planning to attend. She searched around her desk for the card that must have fallen from it, but found nothing, and even a check of the surveillance cameras at the entrances gave her no leads. At first she hesitated to keep such a personal gift from an unknown admirer, but she could not resist its beauty and after wearing it to the party, she kept it draped across her couch where the vibrant colors always cheered her after another long day at work.


	5. Chapter 5 Tim McGee

**Tim McGee**

"Abby, it's barely September! I haven't even thought about it!"

"McGee, you can't leave this sort of thing till the last minute," the forensic scientist tsked as she exited the elevator to her lab. "I want some answers by the end of the week!"

McGee sighed as the doors closed, and pushed the button again for the next floor. Abby did tend to get carried away sometimes, but that was an endearing as well as annoying trait of hers. He tried to put her demands out of his mind and concentrate on the job at hand as he walked into the morgue.

Dr. Mallard, commonly known as Ducky, glanced up from his desk. "Ah, Timothy," he greeted him. "I take it you're here for the results of my autopsy on Ensign Waverly. I'm just finishing my notes." He peered again at his visitor. "Is something bothering you? You look a bit out of sorts."

McGee sighed. So much for his poker face. "Abby's been pestering me," he replied. "She wants to know what I'm wearing for Halloween this year. Halloween! It's the second of September!"

The doctor chuckled. "She does take the holiday seriously, you know that. After this many years, I'd think you'd have a costume already planned."

"Every year I tell her what I'm planning," he explained, "and she always comes up with…" he searched for the right word, "…suggestions."

Ducky nodded in comprehension. "This year you'd like to make your own costume without any interference."

"I'd like to surprise her!" Tim exclaimed. "But I'm having trouble coming up with something really different."

"Do you have any ideas at all?"

"No," he said in frustration. "Halloween is the one time of the year when I can really be as geeky as I want and it's okay. I was thinking of something from one of the older sci-fi shows, but I haven't really decided yet. I'm going to kick around some ideas this weekend with some of my online chat group friends and see if anything clicks. I still have plenty of time to work on it."

Ducky's reply was interrupted by the ringing of McGee's cell phone. He took one look at the caller ID, grabbed the notes Ducky held out to him and rushed out of the room. Ducky shook his head and smiled. Apparently Gibbs was not in a patient mood today.

On October first, Tim's landlady called to him as he was about to climb the stairs to his apartment. To his surprise, she handed him a box, telling him it had been delivered by a bicycle messenger. He thanked her politely and, once in his living room, opened it curiously. Lifting up the contents, he broke into a big grin.

A few weeks later, Tim strode into Abby's Halloween party, ready to have some fun. He glanced about him, looking for his hostess, and spotted her by the punch bowl. (Where, he wondered, had she gotten a punch bowl that looked like a cut-open human head?) He tapped her on the shoulder and was rewarded by the look of astonished delight on her face.

"McGee!" she exclaimed. "You look amazing! How did you know that the fourth Doctor was my favorite?"

Tim stroked the extra-long, striped scarf which had arrived so mysteriously at his doorstep. "Oh, we Time Lords have our ways, you know."


	6. Chapter 6 Jethro Gibbs

**Jethro Gibbs**

It was a bitterly cold day in early December when the report came of a body found near the Washington Monument. Gibbs gathered his people, put a call through to Dr. Mallard and headed out.

Ducky arrived several minutes after the team and was surprised to see them clustered around the car instead of investigating the crime scene. He hastened over, but as he opened his mouth to speak Tony interrupted.

"False alarm," he informed the M.E. "Our victim" he gestured to a young man huddled in an NCIS jacket in the car, "worked late shift last night and got mugged on the way home. They stole his wallet, coat and boots. Whoever put in the call to us came close enough to see his uniform but not close enough to see that he was still breathing."

Ducky looked over the where Gibbs was talking to a couple of uniformed police. They moved aside as an ambulance arrived, and shortly afterwards the ensign was headed to the hospital. Gibbs joined the rest of the team as they prepared to head back to the office.

"Nice to go back empty-handed for once," he commented, then he stopped suddenly. "Damn!" He looked back over his shoulder in the direction the ambulance had taken.

"Boss?" McGee queried.

"I gave the guy my hat," Gibbs replied, sounding annoyed. "and I forgot to get it back before he left." He sighed in resignation. "That was my favorite watch cap. Guess I'll have to look for another."

Three days later a dark blue, paper maché box appeared on Jethro's desk. He picked it up and turned it over curiously.

"Where'd this come from?" he asked.

"I don't know," McGee replied. "It was there when I came in."

"Hey, Boss, nice box. What's in it?" Tony asked as he breezed in and hung up his coat.

"That is what we are wondering," Ziva replied, and they all watched as he opened the box.

Gibbs smiled broadly and pulled a new watch cap out of the box. Knitted in ice blue yarn, it fit him perfectly when he put it on. He took it off, looked at it and looked in the box carefully and then shrugged. "Hmm, no ID," and walked over to put the cap in the pocket of his coat. "All right," he said jauntily, "let's get to work."


	7. Chapter 7 Donald Mallard

**Author's Note:** This is the final vignette in the series. I want to again credit "Curuchamion" for supplying the inspiration for each of the preceding chapters. This one is my gift to you!

Thank you to everyone who read this series, and special thanks to those who also took the time to leave comments. I appreciate your appreciation! I hope you will enjoy this closing chapter.

**Dr. Donald Mallard**

Dr. Donald Mallard, commonly known to his co-workers as Ducky, hurried into NCIS headquarters. He paused inside the door to shake the excess rain from his umbrella and then entered the elevator and pressed the button for his floor. Just as the doors were about to close, a voice called "Hold it!", so he put the tip of the umbrella in the gap between the doors to stop them. A moment later, Tony DiNozzo and Tim McGee joined him. Both were soaking wet from the heavy downpour outside and Tim looked enviously at Ducky's brolly.

There was little talk during the brief ride to the bullpen floor. Ducky saw the two agents off at their floor with no more than a short goodbye and pressed the button again for his floor. As the doors closed he could see Tony and Tim heading straight to join Jethro and Ziva in conversation with the Director.

Ducky hoped, as he stepped out of the elevator and turned towards his doors, that there would not be a new case today. He did not feel like going out in the storm to examine another dead body or having to discuss evidence with Jethro or Abby. Jimmy Palmer, his assistant, had scheduled the day off and had worked late last night to complete his paperwork. Ducky was looking forward to a quiet day to himself to catch up on his own paperwork and read some intriguing articles in the latest medical examiners journal.

This was the fourth day of cold, wet, nasty weather and it was affecting even his usual good temper. In his mother's absence, he'd found balance in the evenings by knitting gifts for his friends at work and plotting their anonymous deliveries. But he'd accomplished the final secret mission last week and had no such distraction now.

Ducky sighed as he unlocked the door to the morgue and switched on the light. Ah, peace and… His thoughts were interrupted by the sight of something on one of the examining tables. Approaching cautiously, he saw that it was a medium sized box. He looked it over carefully before he opened it, noting that it looked quite old. It was made of carved wood - mahogany, he guessed - and inlaid in the lid was the shape of a thistle, the emblem of Scotland. The reminder of his homeland made him smile softly and he ran a finger over the mother of pearl that formed it.

He lifted the lid a little bit and when nothing sprang out at him, set the lid aside on the table. What he saw completely dispelled his gloomy mood. Nestled inside the box were several skeins of beautiful yarn and a pair of elegantly-made antique knitting needles. A plain white envelope sat on top of them and he opened it curiously.

The white card inside, written in block letters, simply said, "Thank you".


End file.
